The Mistake

He left his pants upon a chair:
She was a widow, so she said:
But he was apprehended, bare,
By one who rose up from the dead.

Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt keeps breathing a small breath.

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في أزمنة الظلام، تبدأ العينُ بالرؤية

from <strong>The Auction</strong>

I left my home with unencumbered will
And all the rubbish of confusion sold.

"Fourth Meditation"

1

I was always one for being alone,
Seeking in my own way, eternal purpose;
At the edge of the field waiting for the pure moment;
Standing, silent, on sandy beaches or walking along green embankments;
Knowing the sinuousness of small waters:
As a chip or shell, floating lazily with a slow current...

Was it yesterday I stretched out the thin bones of my innocence?
O the songs we hide, singing only to ourselves!
Once I could touch my shadow, and be happy;
In the white kingdoms, I was light as a seed,
Drifting with the blossoms,
A pensive petal.

But a time comes when the vague life of the mouth no longer suffices;
The dead make more impossible demands from their silence;
The soul stands, lonely in its choice,
Waiting, itself a slow thing,
In the changing body.

The river moves, wrinkled by midges,
A light wind stirs in the pine needles.
The shape of a lark rises from a stone;
But there is no song.

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The Surly One

1
When true love broke my heart in half,
I took the whisky from the shelf,
And told my neighbors when to laugh.
I keep a dog, and bark myself.

2
Ghost cries out to ghost –
But who’s afraid of that?
I fear those shadows most
That start from my own feet.